Invader Zim and the DNA Virus of Doom
by anarchei
Summary: Zim makes a virus. As usual, something goes wrong and all hell ensues. From my old account that is no longer active.


Disclaimer: I do not own the Invader Zim characters and am not making any money off of this story. The characters and concept of the Invader Zim show belong to the almighty Jhonen Vasquez and Nickelodeon.

Some rights reserved. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 License.

Summary: Zim makes a virus. As usual, something goes wrong and all hell ensues.

At least that is what the story was going to be about. I wrote this over two years ago, lost the story, found it again, and I am now posting it here. Dunno if I will do anything with it just yet.

If you want to work on this story yourself, be my guest. The license above gives you the conditions.

--

Invader Zim and the DNA Virus of Doom

--

That slowly spinning ball of filth that is drifting through space like the stupid thing has nothing better to do is what the humans call Earth. That is such a great name for a planet by the way. For something that has a surface that is seventy percent water it makes a lot of sense to name a planet after dirt. The star that this dirt-sphere orbits is rather stupidly named Sol, which is another great name by the way since all it does is abbreviate a word that describes itself. Imagine calling a star solar. Madness! This sun has been booby-trapped somehow: if you stare at this burning ball of gas for too long the blazing light that is emitted will burn your retinas and blind you for a few hours.

The inhabitants of Earth are generally tall, stupid, and ignorant of everything around them. The filth they live in, germs and drooling babies everywhere, and do not forget the dogs with meat. Madness! Working in the middle of all of this, somewhere in the North American continent, was Zim. Long into the night he would be doing stuff in his base, going through plan after plan, attempting to destroy these pitiful humans and leave the planet ripe for conquest by the mighty Irken Empire. Right now he was working on a particularly nasty plan. This plan involved a virus that would mutate sentient cells into a morphed humanoid beast-type creature.

Zim was mighty pleased with the results so far. He had managed to simulate a successful infection in a human and was now prepared to infect the real thing. Nick, the physical manifestation of Nickelodeon, was waiting in his stasis tube with a giant happiness probe lodged deep in his brain. Hefting a large syringe, Zim injected the purple goo into the medication slot. He watched in anticipation as the goo crept up the clear tube into Nick's arm. At first, nothing happened. Then, slowly, things started happening. For starters, Gir took this opportunity to appear with a stack of waffles with a dirty pig sitting on his head.

"I made waffles!"

"Not now Gir," Zim replied in that slightly irritated voice of his. "I'm busy."

That did it. Gir started screaming like he always does when waffles are rejected. The pig on his head jumped onto the stack, sending waffles flying everywhere, including Zim's face.

"Gir!" The golden-syrup covered waffle slowly sliding down his face. "Clean up this mess! I am going to bathe now. When I come back, I don't want to see you unless all the waffles are gone and that filthy dirt-pig is turned into bacon!"

"But the pig is my friend."

"Silence! I AM ZIM!"

--

Sometime later...

By the time Zim had returned to his lab, the mess was gone, Gir was watching the Scary Monkey Show while eating a plate full of bacon, and Nick had mutated into a two-metre tall muscle-bound humanoid yak of the colour orange with the Nickolodeon logo on his chest.

"Success!" Zim yelled, fists held high in triumph. "I'm ingenious!"

With the DNA virus effective against humans, Zim could finally do something other than sitting around at Skool and putting up with Dib's questions about why he had not done anything to take over the world for a week. Zim would have quit Skool long ago had it not been for the fact that he had promised the good Mr Jhonen Vasquez ever since the cancellation of the Invader Zim series, that he would keep going to Skool and keep trying to take over the world. Well, once he took over the world he would not have to go to Skool any more. It was better than the alternative.

In the next five minutes Zim somehow gets a mega-dose of the DNA virus and is kicked out of his base because he is not recognised by the computer any more.

--

Gir was eating his friend, formally known as pig, now known as bacon on a plate, when the impossible happened. The Scary Monkey Show was cancelled. That and Zim was kicked out of his base because the computer no longer recognised him as Zim. Gir was fine with all this, he just switched the channel and went on eating bacon...after throwing a tantrum when they said they would not be showing reruns of the Scary Monkey Show. The sausages on the screen asking him to dance with them into oblivion were not helping the situation, especially now that his mighty robot form was growing fur and getting larger, much, much larger, and his brain, getting much, much smarter. Instead of been insane he was becoming stupid. Considering humans, that is an improvement.

--

Meanwhile...

Zim was struggling to walk down the street. All remnants of stupidity were quickly vanishing from his brain. His pak had fallen off two blocks ago, the transformation he was undertaking had rendered it useless. Zim's original DNA was been mutated to the special viral DNA sequence that he had just created. He knew exactly what he was to become, and it horrified him to no end. He found the idea of becoming part human revolting. But as his mind slowly became less dumb he had this small idea poking at him that this was not such a bad thing. He ignored it completely. He was an Irken soldier, all other organic races were inferior and only worthy of destruction or subservience.

He had reached the street that Dib lived on when the pain started to ebb at his synapses. He had, after all, received a lethal dose of the virus. It was inevitable that he would either die or transform into the horrible creature that had centred itself in his mind's eye. Zim knew that the transformation was permanent, and since death was unacceptable, he had turned to his last resort: asking Dib for help. He was having trouble breathing in the foul Earth air when he knocked on the front door. A few moments it was answered by Gaz, who swiftly slammed it shut. Zim, not accustomed to having doors slammed in his face, began banging on the door with his fists until it was opened, this time by Dib. The look on Dib's face was priceless, but Zim had no time to treasure the moment, nor did he have a camera to take a picture, so he did the next best thing: he pushed Dib out of the way and walked in, slamming the door shut behind him.

"What is it now Zim?" Dib asked, a bit annoyed by the alien's presence but otherwise not really in the mood for more talk of his planet's doom. He already knew that he would beat Zim again, Gaz had said so, and Gaz was always right apparently.

"I need your help Dib, what do you think I would be here for?" Zim replied, finding a seat on the sofa next to Gaz before he fell to the floor. His legs were like jelly. "Believe me, I wouldn't spend another minute in this cesspool you call a house."

Gaz, not really enjoying the train of the conversation, jumped off the sofa and headed for the kitchen, looking for any soda that Dib had not yet consumed.

"Help you with what exactly?" Dib asked, not having moved from his spot near the front door.

"I was experimenting with human and animal DNA," Zim replied quickly, knowing that if he did not work quickly, he would pass out soon. "I designed a virus that I could use against you humans that would transform you into anything I wanted. I was going to turn you all into humanoid pig monsters and have Gir fry you all up. But something went wrong. I was examining a new strain of the DNA virus I had just created when I felt this stabbing sensation in my back. That horrible yak! It got me with my own weapon of doom and now I'm changing into a horrible Earth creature. My computer won't recognise me as Zim any more, I need to use your lab!"

"You want to use my lab?" Dib replied, trying to understand all that Zim had just said. He moved in front of the sofa to face Zim. "Are you crazy? Why should I help you?"

"Because, insolent fool boy!" Zim replied, wheezing. "If you do not, then you and all of your race are doomed too!"

"I don't believe that, you are too weak to do anything to us now, get out!"

"Dib, listen to me..."

"I said get out!"

Dib quickly grabbed Zim by his shirt and unceremoniously threw Zim out the front door. To add insult to injury, he ran out and turned on the garden hose, spraying Zim all over. Dib's maniacal laughs followed Zim as he retreated down the street. A cold wave of despair rolled over him as he struggled to remain conscious.

--

When other people started mutating, Dib became worried. He was watching TV with his sister Gaz and his dad Professor Membrane, which was unusual to say the lease. Right now they were showing an entire street of people turning into animal type things, "furries" is what they were calling them. Dib had heard of them before, but only on the Internet in some magical fantasy world did they really exist. Now that they were really existing did Dib really understand what Zim had tried to tell him. He felt stupid, of course, and not for the first time either, but that is another story. It was right about then that Dib started to feel wierd, not that he did not feel weird all the time, this was different. He suddenly jumped up off the sofa and ran for the upstairs bathroom. He started to throw up halfway up the stairs, bits of his breakfast and lunch splattering everywhere. He finally reached the bathroom, and nearly fainted when he saw himself in the mirror.

--

Meanwhile...

Zim was in an alley, all alone and sitting in a puddle of his vomit. He had finished transforming into the hideous Earth animal-human hybrid several minutes ago. It had been painful to say the least. His skin had changed from a nice shade of green to a rather boring black and white. He had gotten taller, taller than most humans in fact, nearly two and a half metres in height had he become. His mass had exploded, his once frail frame now bloated with the curves and bulges that accompany muscle mass on a large scale. His head had changed to form a beak and his antenae were gone. His large pink eyes had been replaced with smaller black ones, and his eyesight was far superior than anything he had known. A great muscular tail that forked at the end had appeared near the end of the transformation. Another interesting side effect of the transformation was the appearance of reproductive organs, two egg sized orbs in a sack and a pointy thingy hidden inside a slit. It felt wierd, since Irken soldiers did not reproduce, but were cloned.

Zim still felt weak to his stomach, but otherwise he was feeling stronger and more intelligent than before. With little effort at all, he lifted himself off the ground and cleaned himself as best he could with the rags that were once his mighty uniform. Tossing them aside, he stumbled slightly as he got used to his new form, and crept as best a hulking orca can to the end off the alley. What he saw filled him with shock, pride and sorrow. Shock at all the people either halfway through or already through their own transformations. Pride in the fact that his virus had worked. Sorrow at the fact that he also had transformed and he missed his old Irken form.

--

Meanwhile...

Gir had put down the plate of bacon. He could no longer stand the taste of meat. He was a doggie now and it saddened him of course that he would no longer be a robot, but now that he had developed intelligence comparable with that of the mighty Irken race, his sadness did not last. He know it was futile to care about such things. What happened had happened and nothing would change that. Of course, not all of Gir's stupid tendencies had evaporated. If that happened, the universe would suddenly implode in upon itself for not having a reason to exist. He still watched TV and enjoyed viewing all the fun advertisements. He still needed stuff. The door bell suddenly rang.

--

Meanwhile...

Dib was on the floor in the bathroom, writhing in agony. His small body was slowly catching up to the size of his gargantuan head, surpassing it even, as his bones grew, his muscles bulked, and his clothing ripped apart at the seams. What he had become, he did not know. All he cared about was keeping his eyes closed tightly, trying to overcome the pain the threatened to tear him apart.


End file.
